Dane

I’m silent. I’m trained. I’m lethal.

My hand skimming down your thigh, my gaze a weapon—I know more ways to kill you than please you.

But you’re not paying for my aim. You’re paying for my control. Bringing you a breath away from ecstasy, watching you beg as I hold back your release, I’ll show you exactly what you’ve been missing. Your hunger is my currency and five thousand is my price. I only have one rule—no repeats, because I’m not for keeps. I’m for sale.

One slow grind and I’ll give you exactly what you paid for.

Series: Thrust, #3

Excerpt

“I don’t have any money to pay you.” He knew I didn’t, but I wasn’t saying it just to remind him.

“I don’t want you to pay me.” He held his hand out. “Come on.”

My heart raced and the whisper of his scent through the rainwater drenching his body filled my head. I ached to touch him. “Where?”

“To bed.”

“I can’t… with you.” I had reasons, but I was rapidly forgetting them.

His hand never wavered. “I need sleep. You need sleep. I’ll rest better if I know where you are. Come.”

Knowing I shouldn’t, knowing I was crossing an invisible line I would never return from, I gave him my hand.

He didn’t hesitate. He pulled me to my feet and took a step.

I panicked. “Wait.” Oh God, don’t say it, don’t say it. “I can’t do this. This will mean something to me that it doesn’t to you.”

Cool gray-brown eyes stared down at me without mercy. “Do not speak for me.”

“I just meant—”

“I know what you meant.”

I gave him the truth because it was all I had left. “You’re taking what I don’t have to give.”

His shoulders dropped, his frame leaned toward me, and he lowered his voice to a barely audible whisper. “Trust me.” Rain dripped from his cheek and landed on my arm. “This is what I ask of you, only this. Nothing else.”

If you could fall in love in a single moment with a perfect stranger, I fell in love. “You will break me, Dane Marek,” I whispered.

“You are already broken, Irina Tsarko.”

Also Available

I know the game. I know the angle. I know how to make you beg.

My hands on your body, my mouth hovering over yours—I’ll tell you everything you want to hear. Ten inches of real estate never felt so good.

But don’t take my word for it. My client list is long and my motto is short—one single thrust and you’re mine. I’m not good at what I do, I’m fantastic. But satisfaction doesn’t come cheap. So open your wallet and prepare to forget your name. I’m about to ruin you for any other man.

One single thrust and you’re mine.

Thrust (Thrust #1)

by Sybil Bartel

Jared

I’m not your boyfriend. I’m not the guy next door. I don’t even play nice.

My hands twisting in your hair, my whispered demand in your ear—I’m the fantasy you’ll wish you never had.

When I’m through with you, every inch of your body will know where I’ve been. Your only thought will be the insatiable ache between your legs as my name drags across your lips. You won’t crave more, you’ll beg for it. Because I’m not just a cocky smile with military hardened muscles you paid five grand for—I’m the experience you’ll never forget.

One night with me and you’ll know exactly why women pay me to be rough.

Rough (Thrust #2)

by Sybil Bartel

Sybil Bartel

Sybil Bartel

grew up in Northern California with her head in a book and her feet in the sand. She dreamt of becoming a painter but the heady scent of libraries with their shelves full of books drew her into the world of storytelling. She loves the New Adult genre, but any story about a love so desperately wrong and impossibly beautiful makes her swoon.
Sybil now resides in Southern Florida and while she doesn’t get to read as much as she likes, she still buries her toes in the sand. If she isn’t writing or fighting to contain the banana plantation in her backyard, you can find her spending time with her handsomely tattooed husband, her brilliantly practical son and a mischievous miniature boxer…

But Seriously?

Here are ten things you probably really want to know about Sybil.

She grew up a faculty brat. She can swear like a sailor. She loves men in uniform. She hates being told what to do. She can do your taxes (but don’t ask). The Bird Market in Hong Kong freaks her out. Her favorite word is desperate…or dirty, or both—she can’t decide. She has a thing for muscle cars. But never reply on her for driving directions, ever. And she has a new book boyfriend every week—don’t tell her husband.